Chapter 50
Mia's POV
When I walked into the house, all I could hear was nothing but the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room. On the fireplace was a photo framed of my mother and I sitting on the bench in the backyard. It stirred a mix of emotions through me but one that stood out the most was - happiness. At least we took one picture together. Now I had evidence to show that we reconciled. It wasn't my imagination. It wasn't a dream although it felt like one. It was real.
I made my way to the kitchen and dining room where we started to eat once she was able to get out of bed and I would help Darcy and Fancy cook. Now that mum was gone, they no longer had to the obligation to be here. Ms. Wickham had now returned home, leaving the house all to myself. This time, it would be lonely without them and mum. This wasn't how I imagined life would be after all this. All I thought about was Zayn and our future. Hopefully we still had one.
He was coming back in two weeks and I really wanted to see him. But I couldn't. Not yet. Drawing attention was the last thing I wanted to do for it could ruin my reputation as the only inheritor of my parent's industry.
As hunger took over my senses, I decided to make myself an omelette. It was the only thing I knew how to make well and without anyone here, I could make a big mess if I wanted. No one would lecture me. No one would complain about me being a slob. Except mum would. I could still hear her faint voice in the air telling me the right amount of salt and how to hold the pan correctly. I hated to admit it, but I missed her. She was a nice woman and it was a shame we couldn't be together for longer.
After I placed the deliciously bacon filled omelette on a plate and poured myself a cup of orange juice, I settled down on the couch facing the television. Something interesting had to be on. I would watch anything to distract me from going crazy on this quiet Saturday. When I switched the screen on, what appeared almost cause me to choke. It was Zayn's favorite movie. The one he would watch constantly those times when we were in hiding from the paps.
Scarface, was it? Or was it The Godfather? Who knows. It had been too long since I've last seen it. I decided to watch what was left of the film as I gradually finished my breakfast.
***
Every day for the past two weeks was an endless routine - wake up, morning run, shower, eat, ponder in the backyard, reminisce the wonderful memories, eat again, then sleep, repeat. Something I was definitely used to but no longer enjoyed.
When I woke up from my afternoon nap, I looked outside the window to see that it was already dark. I must have dozed off whilst watching some television since the screen was still blinking in the dark room. My hand rubbed my tired eyes, trying to awaken myself.
What's the first thing I saw when my eyes fixated on the screen?
Zayn's face. I quickly searched for the remote and turned up the volume to hear what the news was.
When I mentally tuned in, the female news reporter spoke, "...mysterious tweets. Seems like our Zayn has been homesick and who could blame him? I'm sure thousands of fans are happy you're home. When we spoke to the former 1D member, this is what he had to say..."
The shot changed to Zayn being interviewed as he sat in a chair with a black background. He was wearing a white tee shirt with a light blue corduroy jacket and he had a black beanie on.
"So describe your tour in America for us in one word." The same brunette reporter demanded, flaunting her perfect teeth through her smile.
"It was unbelievable. If I had enough strength to do another concert there again, I would do it in a heartbeat." He said, his voice still cool like before. He hadn't changed at all since the last time I saw him. That stubble of his was still there, his hazel eyes glimmered from the lights behind the scenes. I couldn't help my heart flutter at the mere sight of him.
"That's quite ambitious. Now can you tell me about these mysterious tweets of yours?"
Zayn chuckled at the question. "I should have seen that one coming."
"So, who are they about?"
"Someone .. I really care about." He answered and I wasn't surprised at how secretive he was keeping this.
"Special? Hmmm. Could it perhaps be a girl?"
"Perhaps..." He said with a smirk and I couldn't help a smile form on my lips. Javadd was really adorable when he's trying to be cryptic.
Who was this someone special? What if it was me? My hopes raised and my spirits almost lifted into the air but they immediately deflated when I considered the possibility of it not being me. What if it was someone else he found during these past few months?
Zayn would never do that to me.
"Alright. I understand and respect your privacy. Now tell me who's the first person you're going to see when you get home?"
"That's an obvious answer. My family. I've missed them so much and I can't wait to catch up."
"And after them?"
Zayn thought for a while before replying. "Probably call up my boys. It's been ages since we've hung together."
"And then?..." The reporter urged on and it was pretty clear she was trying to get him to spill who this secret person was.
"And ... that's it." He concluded bluntly.
"How about that special someone of yours?" She questioned eagerly.
"Ahhh. Well, I can't say too much about that. I simply want to rest and take a nice, long break before my next album."
"Well, congratulations on finishing your tour. And even if you won't tell me who this mystery lass is, I'm sure time will tell."
I gulped at her words.
"Yes, only time will tell." Zayn repeated with a crooked grin on his face.
I shut off the television as the interview came to an end. The way Zayn was so taciturn about his responses didn't help comfort me at all. I was sure I was the 'special someone' but what if I wasn't? What if he got bored with waiting and moved on? I pictured him with another girl in a close embrace, causing a subtle pain to swell in my chest.
To stop myself from over thinking, I needed to find a distraction. As I walked into the kitchen and turned on the lights, I got the broom from the kitchen closet and started sweeping the floor.
What were these tweets they were taking about? What did he say in them? Were they good things he said about this certain someone?
This was clearly not helping my continual thoughts so I decided to mop the wooded floor, wash down the granite countertops, clean every inch of the walls in the kitchen, and vacuum the whole house. When I looked at the clock it was already half past midnight and I was completely exhausted from occupying my thoughts with cleaning.
When I went upstairs to my room, I looked over at my mum's room, just blankly staring at the white door. I hadn't gone in there the whole week because well I was afraid - of what memories I would relive in that room. Before I knew it, I was already in front of her room and forced my hands to turn the door knob.
As I turned the light switch on, the bed was neatly made, the window was shut, and the bookcase was - well - empty. Except there looked to be like a piece of paper folded on one of the upper shelves. Half of it was hanging on the side and I tried to reach for it but I was too short. Jumping didn't work and before I could find another way to retrieve it, I heard my phone ring from my room.
What if it's Zayn calling?!
The possibility that it could be him excited me and I ran across the hall to my bed where the sound came from. When I looked at the caller ID, disappointment settled in. It wasn't Zayn. It was only Winnie.
"Hi Winnie. What's up?" I spoke, concealing my feelings with a delighted voice.
"Hey, did I wake you?"
"Not at all. Couldn't sleep."
"Again? Well, Elliot and I are on our way to visit you. Is that alright?"
"Of course! You didn't even have to ask but why at this hour?"
"Because Elliot really wants to see you for some reason and I begged him that we would leave right in the morning but you know how I am. Always spoiling my child."
I chuckled. "Okay. Drive safe." I said before hanging up.
Two hours later, they pulled in the driveway and I busted through the front door in excitement when I heard the car. I opened the passenger door and spotted a sleeping Elliot drooling in his carseat. Winnie got out from the car and gave me a hug.
"How've you been?" She asked me.
"Good, thank you."
"He fell asleep on the way here," she explained. "Even though he promised me he would keep me company the entire time. I guess that's what I get for entrusting a five year old's words."
I laughed at her childish scowl while she unbuckled him out of the carseat and I got their suitcases from the trunk.
When we entered the house, Winnie brought Elliot straight up to their usual room while I followed with her unreasonably heavy luggage and Elliot's tiny Batman duffle bag.
"Goodness, what do you have in here?" I asked once she settled him on the bed.
"Just clothes." She nonchalantly answered.
"Clothes?! For who? The entire country of England?" I joked and she gave me a questioning glare.
"You're funny." She said as she slid off her magenta colored peacoat and hung it neatly on one of the hangers in the closet.
"You only realized that now?"
"Come on, let's go downstairs and let Elliot sleep," she suggested.
"Okay." I whispered.
I led the way to the kitchen and poured us two cups of warm, herbal tea. Something mum liked to drink when she was still here.
"Did you purposely clean the house because we were coming here?" Winnie asked, observing the rooms as she sat in the dining chair.
"No," I chuckled and sat down next to her. "Just needed to keep myself busy."
"I see. I don't know how you do it."
"Do what?" I asked and took a sip of the tasteless liquid, regretting it shortly after. How could mum drink this kind of stuff?
"You know. Be here by yourself."
"It's not like it's haunted, Win or should I call you Fred?" I teased.
"Please, Winnie is fine. You know how much I hate that name." I did know how much she disliked to be called that. "Did you forgive, mum? She asked, taking a sip of the tea.
I stared at my cup as my hands wrapped around the warm, ceramic surface.
"I did. I just never said it aloud to her."
"Oh." Was all she managed to say.
"Do you think, on some level, she knows?" I asked, keeping my eyes down. Winnie's hand grabbed onto my left shoulder, causing me to look at her.
"Yes. I believe she knows." She assured me with tears in her eyes. "Mum would always mention, before you agreed to take care of her - she would always talk about how much she was sorry and how much she wanted to meet you before it was too late. The only thing she expected from you wasn't your forgiveness. It was just to hold your hand. She told me how hard your fingers held onto her one finger when you were just born."
"She said that?"
Winnie nodded her head. "She told me that story so many times that I could regurgitate each little detail but I might bore you."
"That's fine. You don't have to."
"Good." She spat in relief and I subtly giggled at her.
"How long are you planning to stay?" I asked, bringing the cup to my lips but quickly recalled the horrid taste and set it back down in front of me.
"Maybe a week or so. There's not much to do at home since it's only Elliot and I .. "
"Well, I'm more than happy to have you both here with me." I said reaching across the table for her hand.
"Any news from father?" She inquired.
"None at all."
"I think he's still shaken up about mum. He wanted to save her life and provide her with the best healthcare but she refused it."
"Why? I mean with the money that they have - they could probably fly to the moon."
"I don't know why. I guess that's just how mum was."
There was a moment of silence as I searched my brain for the words she said to me before the night she passed.
"After a while, you just have to let go. You can't hold onto something that's no longer there."
Replaying those words, in her soothing voice - it sent a slight agonizing throb in my chest and in my head.
I figured it was getting late and sleep was something I needed.
"I'm going to bed," I told Winnie, as I rose from my seat. "I'll see --" I stopped myself from continuing.
I was going to say the same exact words my mum said before she left us. That she'll see me tomorrow and I remembered being momentarily angry at why she didn't keep her word. At how she wasn't able to see me. Furious at her and at the illness that stole her life away.
"You'll what?" Winnie asked, confused at why I stopped mid sentence.
"I'll see if the doors are locked first." I quickly came up with a lame excuse.
I guess she hadn't notice that it was a lie since she went back to drinking her tea. How did she even manage to drink that? I guess she shared more similar traits with mum than I did.
Okay. Zayn is finally back in the UK! Yay! How will they run into each other? The possibilities are endless! Will try and update tomorrow (:
Good night/afternoon/morning all!
Emma <33